


Salty

by agentcalliope



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fitz should know better, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Pranks and Practical Jokes, shaking my head, what a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6762079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz decides to pull a little prank on Jemma.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn't necessarily go the way he planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salty

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to welldonefitz for convincing me to do this in the span of 5 seconds and grapehyasyth for betaing!

* * *

 

“‘Oh Fitz, can we start over? Back to where we began?’” Fitz mimics, bouncing on his toes and rooting through the top drawer over the sink. It’s been months since she’s said that, really— and they are definitely _more_ than where they actually started. And yet, when he woke up this morning with her still fast asleep and an arm drooping over his chest, he found his mind forming an excellent, brilliant, _genius_ idea.

 

Fitz bites his lower lip in concentration, hand over his head and blindly searching for what he needs. He exclaims a loud “Aha!” when he feels the container and then again softly to himself as he reaches within and grabs it.

“Oh, yeah, Simmons. We’ll go back to where we began, alright,” he cackles, turning the bottle over in his hand to confirm—

 

‘100% Sea Salt’.

 

(He remembers the last prank he pulled, and how quickly the tables had turned. But that had been a mop hidden in a closet meant to scare Daisy, and this is a _masterpiece_ meant for his girlfriend)

(He vows not to mess up this time)

 

He makes the tea like he always does, years and years of practice forming his motions. Setting the kettle with precisely three cups of water on the stove, he reaches for her TARDIS mug and his 5th Doctor one.

 

Yet this time, Fitz can hardly wait for the water to boil, drumming his fingers in a rhythm on the counter and his head on his hand.

Fitz imagines Jemma’s face as she drinks the tea laced with salt rather than sugar, and it’s enough to have him in stitches.

 

The sharp sound of the kettle ringing goes off, and it’s crunch time— Jemma has a sixth sense for these things, and he only has approximately 30 seconds to have the salt in her tea before she'll stumble into the kitchen area.

 

He grabs the packets of tea and dunks them into the mugs, glancing behind him to make sure she isn’t there before he pours the boiling water.

 

He’s so excited he can hardly contain himself and he just straight up pours the salt into the TARDIS mug for a second, not even bothering to measure out spoonfuls.

 

_It’s a tradition, Simmons. We must carry on the tradition!_

 

30 seconds are up and like clockwork, Jemma staggers into the room, yawning and rubbing her eyes with her fist and her other hand drawing her robe around her tighter.

 

Quickly, Fitz shoves the noticeably lighter container of salt behind some water bottles lined against the back of the counter and he turns around to face her.

 

If this was any other morning, the sight of her would immediately make his heart stop, as if he hadn’t just woken up beside her moments ago but actually had been scouring the world blind for years, and he’s finally seen the light.

 

But now, Fitz has cast that aside because he has to focus all his energy into holding in rambunctious laughter at the thought of what’s to come, and he musters a crooked smile.

 

“Good morning!” he calls cheerfully, reaching back around to grip the mugs by their handles and swivel back to meet her at the table.

 

She looks at him through bleary eyes, though love and adoration seep through - directed towards _him_ \- and he’s suddenly very guilty and horrified at himself.

 

And then he imagines her spewing out the tea and wrinkling her nose in disgust and rubbing her tongue on a napkin, yelping, _Fitz! What the hell was that? That was awful!_

 

And Fitz’s guilt rolls right off of him and disappears through the ground.

 

“Tea for you, Dr. Simmons?” he innocently asks, placing her mug in front of her, watching as she breathes in the steam rising from the tea.

 

He slips up and barks out a laugh which he hastily disguises as a cough.

 

_She must never suspect a thing._

 

She grips the mug with both hands, and then she raises it to her mouth and Fitz is wide-eyed and barely holding back tears just waiting for her to finally sip it-

 

Jemma sets it back down, cocking her head and her eyebrows narrow in puzzlement.

“Fitz, is everything alright?”

 

_Oh shit she knows -- gotta play it dumb._

 

“Of course Jemma,” his voice cracks before he clears his throat, “why wouldn’t everything be alright?”

 

He decides buttering her up would definitely direct her suspicions away.

 

“I’m going to have tea, like I do every morning, with my girlfriend who I love _very_ dearly. What could be wrong with that?”

 

He sips his tea and hopes that she’ll unconsciously mirror him.

 

Jemma smiles and blushes and his heart grows at the sight. “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

 

Fitz grins and straightens his posture and he feels great-

 

“But you’re a _terrible_ liar.”

 

_What._

 

She glares at him with a malicious grin plastered on her face, before bringing the mug to her lips once more and doesn’t just sip the tea but _downs_ it, not once grimacing through what must be a horrid taste.

 

Fitz’s eyes bulge and his jaw drops.

 

And Jemma’s eyes never leave his.

 

She finishes with a gulp, smirking as she sets the mug carefully back on the table. She licks her lips and he almost gags at the sight.

 

“Mmmmm… Salty.”

 

“Who _are_ you?” Fitz whispers, wondering in amazement and repulsion.

 

“I’m Jemma Simmons. Biochemist,” she says with an air of daintiness as she scoots back her chair and stands up.

 

She begins to head out the room, back to their bunk no doubt, before halting in her tracks to face him with a confident, competitive grin.

“And you better watch your back, _Leopold_.”

**Author's Note:**

> i saw this prompt on tumblr: imagine person a of your otp switching the sugar out with salt before person b is awake. person b makes their coffee before so much as glancing in person a’s general direction, as usual, and dumps a butt load of “sugar” into their coffee before drinking it. person a is fighting back laughter and tears until they realize person b is giving them a death glare while they gulp down their entire 16 oz. cup of salty coffee without skipping a beat because they are the alpha and what is weakness.
> 
> and I KNEW I HAD TO DO IT.


End file.
